


kiss your fingers forevermore

by nimsayee



Category: Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Free Time Events (Dangan Ronpa), Holding Hands, Hurt/Comfort, but theres little hurt and much comfort, embarassing amounts of fluff, mentions of monokuma but hes not actually there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:07:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27711146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nimsayee/pseuds/nimsayee
Summary: “Kirigiri-san, can I try something ?”Makoto wanted to reach out, grab the words as they leapt and push them back into his heart where no one would hear them, muffled and quiet against his ribcage. God, why did he say that ?Alternatively; Makoto thinks Kyoko looks sad, hand holding ensues.
Relationships: Kirigiri Kyoko/Naegi Makoto
Comments: 5
Kudos: 40





	kiss your fingers forevermore

**Author's Note:**

> well this is embarassing. title is from your best american girl by mitski. this takes place during kyoko's free time event where she talks about her gloves. they're probably in the lab thingy on the 3rd floor  
> PLEASE dont expect this to be good

Makoto liked to think of himself as a pretty considerate person. he mulled over his words before saying them, let them sit in his mind for a while. He would pick them apart carefully, discard what was unwanted and keep the rest. He wanted to say the right things at the right time, he wanted his words to spark hope when his friends needed it the most. That required a little bit of cautiousness that he was usually happy to oblige.

Key word was usually, because right now it seems all his principles have gone flying out of the window. 

He wasn’t sure if it was the distant loneliness in her eyes or the mindless way she clutched to the hem of her skirt, a desperate attempt at anchoring herself, but something in the way she looked made his heart swell and the words dash from his mouth, out of control.

“Kirigiri-san, can I try something ?”

Makoto wanted to reach out, grab the words as they leaped and push them back into his heart where no one would hear them, muffled and quiet against his ribcage. God, why did he say that ?

The question seemed to snap Kyoko out of her haze. She loosened the grip on her skirt and leaned in a little, barely noticeable. But Makoto noticed. He always did.

She looked at him, violet so intense Makoto could cry. She blinked once, then twice, and even that felt like a carefully calculated ploy.

“What ?”

If her face wasn’t a thoroughly crafted veil of stoicism, Makoto might’ve said she looked confused. Maybe a little intrigued. Her earlier weariness was gone, at least, and that made him the slightest bit relieved.

Makoto swallowed. He was screwed. He definitely didn’t have enough confidence to act out the idea he just had – and accidentally voiced. But when Kyoko was looking at him that expectantly, he found it difficult not to answer her. He felt as if she was looking right through him.

He summoned up all the courage he had left.

“I- I totally understand if you feel uncomfortable with it or if you think I’m overstepping my boundaries, I mean, this probably isn’t something I should be asking you to do in the first place-“ 

“Naegi, you’re rambling.” Kyoko interrupted, deadpan. “Cut to the chase. What is it you want to try ?”

Straight to the point, as always. Makoto wiped his palms on his jeans, and resisted the urge to fidget with his jacket. He couldn’t let her know how nervous he felt, that would make the situation even more embarrassing. His heart was thumping so hard against his ribcage he was scared she would hear it. But it was too late to back off now. 

“Can you take off your gloves ?”

The words hung in the air between them, oppressive. Suddenly, it felt harder to breathe.

Kyoko tensed immediately. Makoto would’ve been impressed by her reaction time if her poorly masked discomfort didn’t send a pang of guilt reverberating through his entire body. She tried to keep her cool, but the way her eyebrows furrowed and her eyes narrowed gave it away. He had hit her where it hurt.

Makoto continued before she had the time to retort. 

“I know you don’t want anyone to see your hand, and I- I promise I won’t look. I’ll keep my eyes closed the entire time,”

He shut his eyes, trying to prove his point. He couldn’t see her glaring at him but he could feel it burning through his skin.

“You can check, and… and if I open them, you have the right to leave and n-never talk to me again. You can even punch me if you’d like, I wouldn’t blame you. You could even kill me. Wait, no, please don’t do that ! But… but my point still stands.” 

God, he was rambling, wasn’t he ? For the first time since the killing game started, Makoto found himself hoping for Monokuma to barge into this conversation and put an end to his misery. He could do all his silly little dances and bring his not-so-silly little motives and Makoto would be thankful to the stuffed bear for getting him out of probably the most awkward interaction in his life.

Makoto couldn’t see Kyoko open her mouth – his eyes were closed, but he could hear her breathe in. You know, the way people usually do when they’re about to say something. Except she didn’t. She didn’t say anything, and the silence drew on, agonizing. Makoto didn’t need to see her to know she was clutching her skirt again.

“Just- Trust me,” he tried.

“What are you planning ?” 

It came out almost like a sigh. She sounded unsure. Makoto had never seen her express this much vulnerability, he thought, right before his mind blanked. He bit down on his lip – he probably looked pretty stupid right now, trying to hold the words in. He wasn’t sure if his lack of answer was due to self-preservation or a loss for words, and he didn’t know how Kyoko decided to take it, but either way, she sighed again.

“Just, don’t open your eyes. I already told you I can't show anyone what's underneath those gloves. I trust you will keep that in mind.”

There was a pause, and then Makoto could hear the sound of ruffling fabric – leather, painfully loud in the deafening silence. Makoto didn’t know if he felt relieved or if he was on the verge of a panic attack. His heart was beating as fast as ever, and this time he was sure she could hear it. He took a deep breath, one he would definitely need, and extended a trembling hand.

He reached blindly at first, clumsy and hesitant, until he felt a comforting warmth settle underneath his hand. Kyoko’s breath hitched, and Makoto let the sound wash over him. His hand was on top of hers. Repeating, his hand was on top of hers. Kirigiri Kyoko’s. 

Makoto was already making an active effort to not hyperventilate, and then she leaned into his touch and hummed in approval and for the second time this afternoon he felt like he could cry.

Her skin felt rough and rugged underneath his touch. It felt uneven, scratches etched deep into the epidermis. He clutched her hand harder.

“I-“ It came out like a squeak, higher than he’d intended it to be. Makoto cleared his throat and continued. “I think it’s sad that you feel the need to hide away this part of yourself. I think… I think your scars are nothing to be ashamed of. I- I just wanted to show you this part of you was loveable as well ? I guess ? I didn’t really think this through, I’m sorry-“

Kyoko interrupted him, entwining their fingers. “Thank you, Naegi," she almost-whispered, and he could practically hear the smile in her voice. He felt really, really tempted to take a peek and see it for himself, but he didn’t. He tentatively brushed his thumb over one of her knuckles. 

“Can I ?”

It came out quiet, hushed, a little bit unsure. He was still afraid of making her uncomfortable. She hummed quietly, in a way he could only assume was acquiescing. 

Makoto’s hands were slightly sweaty, but it didn’t matter, because their fingers were interlinked and the moment was so real and genuine his heart was making somersaults in his chest. 

And then, in a moment of sudden bravado, he (gently) grabbed her hand and lifted it to his face. He wasn’t sure if it was the way she jumped or the general atmosphere or the fact that he was trapped in a killing game and was probably going to die soon. He didn’t know if it was intentional or if he was momentarily possessed by a Victorian ghost. Either way, Makoto pressed his lips to her knuckles, delicate yet unsure.

Kyoko gasped, and it snapped Makoto out of his trance. Did he actually do that ? This had to be a joke. This was a dream, and it was only a matter of time until the morning announcement woke him up.

Except the weight of Kyoko’s hand in his felt pretty real. He could still hear her staggered breathing, and he could feel her pulse quickening where his hand connected with her wrist. Oh god, this wasn't a dream. That was way too much detail for a dream.

Makoto jolted and retrieved his hand as quickly as he could. “I’m so sorry!” He practically shouted, and let his arm fall back to his side.

He felt Kyoko shift again. “No, I-“ He had never heard her sound this hesitant. “I didn’t mind.”

“You… aren’t mad ?”

“No." He could hear her fumbling with the sleeves of her jacket. "It was… nice.”

Makoto couldn’t believe it. Kyoko wasn’t weirded out. She wasn't weirded out, and she actually liked it. It was insane. The possibilities this revelation entailed were countless. Makoto's mind spiralled, thinking of what else he could get away with. Would she mind if he kissed her ? He certainly wouldn't. He actually really, really wanted to. He would be lying if he said he never humored the thought, or imagined the way her lips would feel against his, soft and pliant--

His train of thought was interrupted by a loud, strident bell chime. For a moment Makoto thought that that was it. That was the morning announcement, and this whole thing was actually a long, excruciating dream. And then he heard the tell-tale sound of Monokuma’s obnoxious high-pitched voice.

“This is a school announcement. It is now 10 p.m ! As such, it is officially--"

Makoto groaned as the night time announcement resounded around the room. He could hear the faint sound of fabric ruffling underneath the loud audio of the stuffed bear’s rumbling voice. Kyoko had put her gloves back on and stood up. 

“You can open your eyes now.”

And he did. Light flooded his vision, and he waited for his eyes to adjust before turning around to look at her.

“And thank you. For… today.” She paused and then added hesitantly, averting her gaze. "No one's ever done something like that for me before."

Kyoko took a deep breath as her eyes settled on Makoto's again. She smiled softly, then turned on her heels and left the room in a confident stride. 

Makoto could hear her footsteps echo down the hall as she headed to the dorms. He lifted a hand to his cheek and was not surprised when he felt it burning. He sighed. That was one hell of an evening.

**Author's Note:**

> im sorry i just really wanted to hold kyoko's hand. hope this wasn't ooc. i also kinda struggled with wether or not i should use her first name during narration but eh whatever. i'll probably edit this later


End file.
